Most actors would leap at the chance to play Doctor Who's archenemy the Master. Not only is it absurdly easy money – all you really need to do is turn up, waggle your eyes about a bit, crow on about drums and then go home again – but you'll be remembered forever for it. You'll become an irreplaceable piece of Whovian lore. You'll top every single Doctor Who convention wishlist. You might even end up as a toy. But try telling that to John Simm.

Simm, the last actor to play the Master, seems to be under the impression that Doctor Who fans have ruined his life. He told Radio Times: "I do get a lot of Doctor Who. God almighty, I'll be so happy when that's gone from my life. They're lovely, I'm sure, but I won't miss it … It's great to be into something, but for goodness sake, really? I'm not the Master, I'm not that evil Time Lord who rules the galaxy, I'm just in Tesco with my kids. Leave me alone!"

You can feel his pain. The Master is such an important part of such a long-running, beloved, obsessed-over show that Simm probably feels it's overshadowed much of his other work. If he got the same attention for his turn as Raskolnikov in Crime and Punishment, he'd be thrilled. If people tugged on his sleeve in Tesco and said: "I watched The Village and, can I just say, you are the Laurence Olivier of angrily screwing up your eyes at some crops," there's a good chance he'd walk home feeling 10 feet tall. But no. People only care about the time he got a dodgy dye-job and shot lasers out of his hands at the bloke from the Virgin Media adverts.

That said, surely John Simm understands the risks involved in speaking out against sci-fi fans. They're not like normal fans. Do something they approve of and they will clutch you to their hearts forever. They'll publish fan art of your face on Tumblr. They'll write slash fiction about you. They'll, yes, stop you in supermarkets to tell you how much you mean to them. Appearing on Doctor Who might have been a couple of weeks of work for you, but it's a lifetime for them. Most importantly, it all comes from a place of affection. And they're easily hurt.

Surely John Simm saw what happened when William Shatner told Star Trek fans to "Get a life" during a Saturday Night Live sketch in 1986. The backlash from wounded fans was so stinging that he had to backpedal wildly to save face, even going so far as writing a book about how much he actually loved them all along. Leonard Nimoy did something similar, writing a book called I Am Not Spock and then writing another book called I Am Spock, in case any fans thought the first book made it seem like he wasn't actually Spock.

So perhaps John Simm will come around. Perhaps in years to come, when people have stopped cornering him the yoghurt aisle to tell him how important the Master is to them, he'll start to miss the attention. He'll realise what a privilege it was to have such devoted fans. He might even come to see his time on Doctor Who as the defining moment of his career. And when that happens, we can look forward to reading Yeah, OK, I Suppose I Am The Master A Bit by John Simm, and we'll all be happy again.